


The Dream of the Dying Star

by kildeer



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Space, Distant future, Ficlet, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Romance, IN SPACE!, M/M, NaNoWriMo, One Shot, Past Lives!Albus/Scorpius, Reincarnated!Albus/Scorpius, Romance, Science Fiction, Self-Sacrifice, Slash, Soldiers, Tragic Romance, black hole, fanception, or is it the distant PAST??!!, supernova, technically this is a fanfic of a fanfic, the once and future lovers, who knows!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 12:01:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6565324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kildeer/pseuds/kildeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A routine mission takes an unexpected turn with tragic consequences for two young soldiers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dream of the Dying Star

He woke up looking at the smooth skin of Z578’s stomach, glowing like a moon in the darkness. K118 smiled to himself. In the overheated, imperfectly calibrated air of his cabin they’d flung off their blankets in sleep and were sprawled across the mattress, their limbs stretched open like puzzle pieces. Through the thick cabin window above the bed he could see the edge of the bright burning star, its halo of cold light allowing him to watch his lover’s chest rising and falling as he slept. Z’s hair was almost the same color as the star in this light and K took advantage of the fact that he could stare at him as much as he wanted, something he tried not to do when they were both awake. It wasn’t easy; Z was the first outlier that most of the soldiers in their unit had ever seen, K included. His skin and hair colors should have already passed out of the gene pool completely. There were whispers that outliers were something other than human, but no one really believed it.

The body beneath him shifted and he watched the crescent moons of Z’s white eyelashes lift, the corners of his mouth curving into a sleepy smile.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

“I slept plenty,” K replied, tracing the invisible edges of Z’s ribs, “I just woke up.”

He ran his fingers down to Z’s stomach, to the soft pale spot he’d woken up looking at, and tapped it gently.

“What were you saying about this the other day?”

Z sighed and closed his eyes again, still smiling.

“I don’t know-”

“Come on tell me, it was cool.”

Z stared at him for a moment before answering, his smile slipping away a little.

“I just, I had this feeling that there might have been something there, on everybody, a long time ago.”

“A hole,” K prompted.

“Yah.”

“But not all the way through?”

Z shook his head, frowning a little.

“I don’t see how it could.”

“Doesn’t seem like it would be very safe,” K agreed, lifting his head so he could kiss Z’s belly, “but why did we have them? You didn’t get a chance to finish that part.”

Z’s frown deepened, like he was trying to describe something he didn’t have words for. It made him look older.

“It...It was something that marked us, that said we all came from the same place.”

“And where was that?” K asked.

“Each other,” Z said quietly after a moment.

K considered pointing out that this was still true, that ultimately the genetic material for humans had to come from other humans, but they both already knew that. It was clear that Z was talking about something more complicated. The outlier was looking up through the window at the star, his expression troubled and thoughtful. K sat up and re-positioned himself, pulling the thin sheet over them as he lay back down at Z’s side.

“It doesn’t seem like it’s dying, does it.”

“No,” Z murmured, putting his arms around K and holding him close. K sighed contentedly, his hand on Z’s chest, feeling the other boy’s heartbeat against his wrist.

“I think it feels like that because it’s been dying for so long.”

“Since the beginning of the universe,” Z said, echoing the general’s debriefing on the mission.

They lay together in silence, looking up at the star. It wasn’t worth going back to sleep; in less than two hours they would be reporting to their stations.

“Have you thought of a name yet?” K asked finally.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Z smiling again.

“There are a few I’ve been thinking about. Are you sure you still want to though? What if you don’t like the name I pick?”

K shrugged.

“It’s not like anyone else will be using them. They’re just for us.”

He eased free of Z’s pale arms and propped himself up on one elbow so that they could be face to face.

“Are you worried that I’ll give you a name you don’t like?”

“No,” Z conceded, and in answer to K’s pointed expression he went on, “What matters is that it’s coming from you.”

“Exactly, which is why I’m not worried either. I mean, it’s not like we’re gonna pick random words and end up being Lamp and Protein Pack or something.”

Z threw up his hand in mock-indignation, looking aggrieved.

“Why did you have to say that? Now I’m back at square one.”

K laughed and kissed him. When they separated Z continued to touch the side of his face, running his thumb over K’s cheek.

“It’s a silly custom anyway,” K said quietly, “old-fashioned and inherently meaningless.”

Z rolled his eyes, sighing.

“That’s not true. It matters to _you_ , so it’s not silly, and now that I’ve had some time to think about it, I could easily go the other way and argue against myself that the idea is inherently meaning _ful_ from an emotional standpoint even if it has no practical causality in the real world.”

K grinned at him, trying not to laugh.

“I love you,” he said.

Z gesticulated with his hand again, this time utterly sincere.

“Another idea that could be argued as being silly, old-fashioned, and completely impractical, yet those arguments have no effect on the truth of the emotion!”

“ _In other words_ ,” K said repressively, leaning in so they were almost nose to nose. Z smiled.

“I love you too.”

 

Thereafter nothing fell out as it might or ought. In a single catastrophic minute the star fell and as it fell it pulled space down with it, like a child rolling out of bed dragging her covers with her. K was strapped into his piloting station. Even though they had all known it was coming, even though the mission had been a death bed visit from the very beginning, he wasn’t prepared for it to actually happen in front of his eyes. From the red emergency lights and alarms going off around him it was clear that someone else hadn’t been fully prepared either. The explosion was so bright that even within the heavily fortified ship K was momentarily blinded. He closed his eyes reflexively and the light followed him, piercing through to the back of his skull like a steel firing rod.

A second later the general’s voice was coming from the speakers, cutting through the alarms and confusion as he ordered the pilots to engage the ship’s self-guidance system and report to the central deployment hangar. K and the others obeyed immediately, all of them eager to get away from the windows and the cataclysm beyond. In spite of the spectacle and sudden ambient urgency they followed protocol, forming ranks and waiting for their lieutenant’s command before proceeding from the command deck.

As they marched K118’s mind was working quickly, trying to remember the hours of training they had undergone in preparation for this moment. The mission itself had been to record the supernova and monitor its results in order to provide any necessary advance warning to the nearest colonies, but within that basic plan was an unsettling number of variables. Chief among them in K’s mind was the one variable not covered in training. Without breaking formation or turning his head his eyes were scanning every hallway, every deck and room, every passing face as they made their way to the hangar, looking for Z578. 

The deployment hangar was the height of the ship and large enough to hold all of the escape vessels and accompanying equipment, along with the soldiers, scientists, mechanics, and medical officers. Upon arriving in the hangar from all different parts of the ship the soldiers formed ranks in the center of the space, finding their respective companies. From his position in the eleventh K immediately sought out the twentieth until he found Z, who looked even paler than usual, his eyes wide as they sought the hangar and found K.

With a small smile K tried to communicate everything he wanted to say to him; his relief that they were both still alive, his half-acknowledged horror at the sight of the star exploding, his hope that everything would be okay and his fear that nothing would. Z gave him an equally troubled smile in return. The soldiers and ship crew were now fully assembled and the general’s voice called them back to attention. He was standing at the head of the formation with his hands behind his back, his formidable frame guaranteeing that no one was ever unaware of his presence. From where he stood K could tell at once that the situation was much worse than he’d realized.

The supernova, their commander informed them, had occurred a full day sooner than predicted and had been at least ten times more powerful. The resulting singularity was therefore also ten times more powerful. Evacuation commands had already been sent to the nearest colony and they were going to abandon the ship. Along with the crew, companies one through nineteen were going to divide themselves among the escape vessels, while company twenty was going to carry out a Code Black. 

Time seemed to crystallize. K couldn’t breathe. A Code Black was classified as an exploratory mission focused on data collection. The Code Black soldiers would be outfitted with advanced sensor and communication equipment before being launched into the singularity. They had all known it was a possibility; it just wasn’t something that any of them talked about. Every supernova mission came with the knowledge that if a singularity appeared a Code Black order would be given. The singularities needed to be measured, their properties and dangers communicated from close range, but most importantly they needed to be described, something that a computer could not adequately do. Z578 was going to be sent into the black hole and K wasn’t.

As a matter of policy the general asked if any members of the twentieth company wanted to forfeit their mission. It was an unpopular decision; forfeiture meant a dishonorable discharge and financial penalization, even a brief prison sentence if the mission being abandoned was critical enough. In spite of these drawbacks there was always at least one soldier who forfeited and K was dimly aware of a hand being raised, of a man he didn’t know requesting exclusion from the mission, but it wasn’t that simple. The other half of the policy stated that forfeiture could only be granted if another soldier volunteered to take the deserter’s place. The general reminded them of this and waited, his eyes sweeping back and forth across the battalion.

Terrified, K raised his hand and hoped that it wasn’t shaking. Under normal conditions there would be more ceremony involved; the deserter and his replacement would be summoned to stand in front of the general and state their intentions out loud for the record. The volunteer would receive verbal commendation, a moment of respectful silence and a formal salute from the rest of the battalion, but these were not normal conditions. The general thanked K and instructed him and the deserter to change positions. K met the soldier’s eyes briefly as they passed each other; he was a young man, perhaps a little older than K, a deep blush of shame darkening his face, his eyes wide with awe and silent gratitude. None of it seemed real, and K was grateful for this as he took the man’s place in the twentieth. Z hadn’t turned his head to watch K join his company. His large grey eyes were staring straight ahead and his jaw was clenched.

Once the exchange was completed the battalion was dismissed and the rapt silence of the hangar broke into barely-contained chaos. Lieutenants escorted their respective companies to the escape vessels, essential supplies and equipment were loaded in record time, and the soldiers of the twentieth company followed their lieutenant to the spacewalk bay. They were met there by technicians who assisted them in putting on their spacesuits, propulsion packs, and equipment, a fortune of intricate technology soon to be lost forever.

The mood was hushed and solemn. The other soldiers spoke in low voices and none of them seemed willing to look at K118, who could feel panic mounting within him and went to stand beside Z. The other boy looked up at him and it was clear that he was furious.

“Why did you do that?” he asked quietly.

“It’s done,” K responded, “please, we don’t have much time.”

Z shook his head, incredulous.

“I can’t believe you. The only thing that would have made this bearable was knowing you would make it.”

“And that’s the only thing that would make it unbearable for me,” K replied, trying to keep his voice steady, “I didn’t have much to live for anyway, other than you.”

An expression of pain twisted Z’s face and as he looked down a tear escaped his eye. Beyond caring about the awkward bulkiness of their suits or the fact that people might be watching, K put his arms around the other boy’s shoulders and rested his forehead against Z’s. Around them he could hear similar farewells being made between friends and comrades, expressions of thanks and regret in brave voices. He swallowed against the grief rising in his throat.

“Tell me my name,” he whispered, “while I can still touch you, please.”

Z’s chin crumpled a little and he reached up to put his arms around K’s waist. While the other soldiers put on their helmets and began positioning themselves near the airlock on the far side of the bay, Z578 and K118 told each other their names and kissed once more before putting on their helmets and going to join the others hand in hand. They could still just make out each other’s faces through the layers of glass and transparent display screens in their helmet visors, and K pushed a button on his comm link so that only Z would be able to hear him. 

“It might not be the end, you know; no one’s been able to prove that it is.”

Z smiled a little.

“It’s still highly unlikely.”

“You would know,” K replied, squeezing his hand, “being highly unlikely yourself.”

Z squeezed his hand back but made no other reply, turning his head a little so K couldn’t see his face. K said the other boy’s name, gently, trying not to think of all the chances he would no longer have to use it, and Z looked back at him, ignoring the tears now running down his face.

“Listen to me,” K went on, “you know those feelings you get, about things that don’t make sense? Well I think I have one too, and it’s that you and I aren’t done yet, maybe not ever.”

Thinking quickly, knowing that he had to hurry, K let go of Z’s hand and pulled the tethering hook from its compartment on his utility belt and attached it to a corresponding lock on Z’s belt. Comprehension dawning on his face, Z took his own hook and connected it to K as the countdown began. Zero approached and they were holding hands again, two lines of spooled cable connecting them.

“What are we going to do?” Z asked, shaking his head, still crying even as he laughed.

K tightened his grip on Z’s hand.

“I don’t know, but we’re going to do it together.”

**Author's Note:**

> The only explanation I can give for this is that it was written during the most desperate days of NaNoWriMo, that magical time when anything is possible. Lol I was working on my A/S fic, and suddenly wondered what it would be like if the reincarnations (or past selves) of Albus and Scorpius were clone soldiers! In love! In SPACE! Originally I was going to justify this crazy thing by including it in that fic as a dream, but that was never going to work, and since I'm not posting a "House of Slytherin" chapter this week I'm posting this to alleviate my guilt. Disclaimer: I know very little about astronomy, physics, or military procedure; I've just watched "Interstellar" and "The Hunger Games" too many times. Also, this might be the most cheesy, melodramatic romance I've ever written. And I love it.
> 
> "Thereafter nothing fell out as it might or ought" - full credit to John Berryman <3


End file.
